Tuesday, March 4, 2014

It's only and already March

Some of my best friends in the whole world are juniors and sophomores and it's funny how many things have changed since then. They're always worried about the ACT and scheduling for next year and applying to college and finals and it makes me feel so gratified to have had such a pleasant high school experience and give them advice. And then all the sudden I realize that everything's starting to sneak up on me. Not just spring break and graduation, but the feeling of moving out and changing is sneaking up on me.

I do not know where I'm going to college, but I do know that I won't be living in Kentucky come August. I will be moving out of the house that I've grown up in and will never really live with my family again. I love Kentucky with all of my heart, more than anything, but I wanted to leave for college. That was so easy to say I wanted to leave this beautiful state when I was making my college list, but now I'm sitting here in my comfy bed, listening to my family fight and laugh and looking at photos of Kentucky and thinking about all of the things that I'm going to miss about here. I am so excited to move on to this next chapter in my life because I know that growth comes from change, but sometimes I see tweets of people who have graduated and it makes me want to crawl back into my large, Tempurpedic bed at home or go out and see more of this city and really embrace it. There's a reason home is home, and as much as I love traveling and seeing other places, Kentucky is my home. There's no Keeneland in the fall or horse farms or back country roads to drive on or Malone's or UK basketball games wherever I go to college. And now it's March 3rd and it's not even halfway through the semester and I'm sitting in my room crying about not wanting to leave.

Excuse me while I cry watching this:

When I woke up yesterday morning at 11 AM because I had a snow day and my mom was trying to get me out of bed to go shovel the driveway, it pained me. I hate shoveling the driveway and my bed is so warm, I thought. I went downstairs and my mom had out the big box of all the snow gear and my sister and I were arguing over which gloves we wanted to wear. My mom had a big pot of coffee brewing and I could hear my brothers already outside shoveling and as much as I resented the 5 inches of snow I had to shovel off my driveway, I realized that these were starting to become the last of everything. This time next year when my siblings are at home on a snow day and hating the fact that there are only three of them to shovel, I'll be getting ready to go to class or take a test in a state hundreds of miles away with no family near me. There aren't any grandparents to call when I need something random for a school project or brother to make vines for or sister to be borrowing clothes from or brother to tell me about what's happening in the book he's reading. There's no mom making the coffee for everyone or dad to pick up from the airport. I don't know where I'm living, so not knowing where I'll go to go shopping or hang out with my friends or anything worries me.

And as weird as my school is, as a friend said the other day, I will never be enrolled in high school again. I was sitting in the library with a lot of other seniors and we were supposed to be working on a project, but of course we were goofing off. Then all the sudden, said friend was talking about how we'll never be enrolled in high school again. I walked into high school on the first day of freshman year and everything was so foreign. I walked around always intimidated by such a big school and intelligent people and people older than me and wondering if I would ever feel attached to a school and feel like I was someone who loved school spirit and felt comfortable. And it's like, wait, when did I become a senior and feel completely cool with this school? I feel like I could be blindfolded and still know exactly where I am. Henry Clay has become home this year, and the acknowledgment of leaving behind such an exciting school community, make what you will of it, will be so sad. All of the random things we've done in high school and could only do because we were in high school, they'll be memories next year. In a short few months, I won't be a Henry Clay student anymore, and that's really hard to think about. (And then that same friend asked us all where we'd be in 10 years. Thank you, Andrew, for giving me anxiety in a library in first hour with seven words.)

I have been so blessed with so many things in high school. So, so, so many things. I think I was really blessed to go to a school where we were given so many resources and opportunities, and it's like, dang, high school's treated me so well. Maybe it's not the best four years of my life, but I have nothing to complain about. It's not even over and I'm already feeling so sentimental about everything. I have so many good things to look forward to (spring's my favorite- prom, spring break, Keeneland, warm weather, etc.), but still, I'm starting to take back the resentful feelings towards not graduating. It makes me want to savor every single thing because, heck, I'm sentimental and dramatic and I can do what I want.

And yes, yes, I know that I'm going to be happy at college. I know that. But I'm still allowed to be sad about leaving home, even if it is only March.